


Jealousy with a Halo

by NamelesslyNightlock



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (spoilers: he isn't), Drunk Thor (Marvel), Established Relationship, Fluff, Jealous Tony Stark, Loki is so done, M/M, Misunderstandings, Possessive Loki (Marvel), Possessive Tony Stark, Secret Relationship, Tony is a coffee addict, Tony needs a break, mystery of the travelling coffee pot, the Avengers think Tony is in love with Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 02:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13308648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Steve has been spending more and more time with Loki. Tony’s not jealous, no way, he’s simply worried that Steve is being corrupted, that’s all. Honestly, no matter what Bruce says, he’s not jealous.He’snot.





	Jealousy with a Halo

**Author's Note:**

> Why??? Do I keep??? Writing fluff??? 
> 
> Also I really should shoot a thanks in the direction of my friend who is not even in this fandom but puts up with me asking questions about words at all hours anyway. Thanks [whimsicalwombat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalwombat/pseuds/whimsicalwombat).

When Tony said that he missed the old days, Clint threw a soda can at his head. Okay, so the can was empty, but it still _hurt_ , and Tony told him so.

“Yeah, well, so does the past,” said Clint, and Tony wondered for a moment if he was making a deep and meaningful Lion King reference or if he was just being dramatic.

Coming to the conclusion that it was possibly both, Tony simply shrugged.

“I still miss it, though.”

“Which parts?” asked Clint, his voice half curious and half accusatory.

It was at that moment that the brewing drama caught the attention of the other occupant of the common floor living room, and Bruce looked over the edge of his book - which was about _family therapy_ of all things - and watched them with a cautious gaze. He was either preparing to mediate, evacuate, or settle down for a good show. Tony wasn’t sure, and decided it was probably best that he simply left Bruce out of the whole thing entirely.

“Oh, you know,” Tony shrugged again. “Villain of the week. Easy takedowns, home in time for lunch, the Avengers fighting together as a proper _team_ —“

“Oh good,” Clint interrupted, tension leaving his shoulders. “This is only about Steve. I thought it was something worse.”

Tony gaped for a second. “Sorry, what? This isn’t… it’s not– I’m _not_ talking about Steve!”

“Sure, Tony,” said Clint, rolling his eyes while picking up the game controller he’d discarded to launch the metal projectile at Tony’s face.

“Wait.” Tony tilted his head. “What did you mean by something _worse_?”

“Well, you know, I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at Loki,” Clint said, his words conversational but Tony knew from the renewed set of his shoulders that the tone was forced. Then Tony paused, because _crap._

“And what do you mean by _that_?” he asked, hoping he managed _conversational_ better than Clint had.

“Oh, you know.” Clint mashed his buttons a little harder than necessary. “Like you know we can’t trust him or– like you hate that he’s here, and I can get behind that, man, I really can, except that you said you missed the _old days_ so…” he shrugged nonchalantly, completely at odds with both the whiteness of his knuckles and the way his avatar was dying a gruesome death on screen. “It just reminded me of what Loki was like _before_ , with all his plans for world domination and mind control.“

“You know the world domination thing was never actually _his_ —“

“And then you go and say shit like _that,”_ Clint snapped, abandoning the game once again to turn on the couch and face Tony square on. “And it makes me wonder whose side you’re on here, exactly. Please, just go back to mooning over Steve. Please don’t actually say to my face that you preferred the time when Loki was mind raping people instead of actually being on our side.”

“He’s not on our side,” Tony pointed out. “He’s only ever been on his _own_ side.”

Clint’s scowl deepened, and Tony quickly found himself backtracking.

“It’s not that I’m not happy he at least seems to be fighting _with_ us, for now,” Tony tried to explain, “It’s more that I’m just sick of it all. Of all the worrying. And Clint, this might seem stupid, but I’m _tired_.”

Clint sighed, the irritation bleeding away and leaving only exhaustion, his eyes closing as he rubbed at them with the heel of his palms.

“Yeah,” Clint sighed. “Yeah, okay, man. I get that.” And from the look of him, Tony knew that he did.

The archer didn’t stay in the common floor much longer, opting to leave his game a final time and go off in search of some place quieter. Tony felt a bit like he had chased him off, and, feeling guilty, didn’t even complain that Clint had left the wires of his controller draped across the coffee table and the screen still on for JARVIS to turn off. Instead, he simply leaned back into the couch and threw an arm over his own tired eyes, wishing that the conversation had gone a bit smoother. He hadn’t meant to upset Clint. He’d let his own emotions get in the way again.

“So that was interesting.”

Tony near jumped out of skin at Bruce’s words, but recovered quickly and met his amused gaze with a grin.

“Things around me always tend to be. But which part in particular?”

“All of it.” With careful fingers Bruce plucked an old ticket stub from the table beside the armchair he was resting in, placed it between pages, and then put the book down where the improvised bookmark had rested moments before. He then laced his fingers together and considered Tony carefully. “You weren’t being entirely truthful.”

“When am I ever?” Tony asked, blasé, and Bruce smiled.

“Certainly not now. Why were you trying to prompt Clint into talking about Loki?”

“Curiosity.” Tony wasn’t entirely surprised that Bruce had caught on to his game. He _had_ been pretty obvious, though he hadn’t counted on Clint’s previous trauma playing a factor. He should have.

“But why?” There was a glint in Bruce’s eye that Tony wasn’t entirely sure that he liked. It was the sort of look he usually saw on Pepper or Steve; the sort of look that usually resulted in him being scheduled to visit the dentist, or being tricked into going to a board meeting, or waking up to discover that all the alcohol in his penthouse had been replaced with kale. (He still hadn’t forgiven the All American Hero for that one.)

“Am I not simply allowed to be interested in what’s happening in my Tower?”

Bruce cocked his head. “You sure are _interested_ in what Steve and Loki are up to.”

“Yeah, well.” Tony shrugged. “It’s Loki. And you know what Steve’s like, he’d be able to find the good in an ice cream truck that ran out of waffle cones. I’m worried Loki’s going to take advantage.”

Bruce smirked in a very un-Bruce like manner. “You’re worried he’s _taking advantage_?”

Tony pointed his finger at Bruce and said very seriously: “You’ve been spending far too much time with Clint.”

“Perhaps,” Bruce chuckled. “But honestly, Tony, come on.”

“I don’t know,” Tony said, sighing, _scrambling_. “It’s _Loki_ , Bruce. He’s not here out of the goodness of his heart.”

“No. He’s here to help Thor, just like the rest of us.”

Tony took a deep breath. “We still don’t know where Thor is. For all we know, Loki’s stalling–“ _probably true_ “–and talking out of his arse to make us owe him one.”

And Tony was pretty sure _that_ was true, because Loki wasn’t worried. If, like they’d feared when they first worked out that Thor wasn’t actually with Jane, he’d been kidnapped by Amora, then Thor would be in _real_ trouble and Loki would be really, truly _worried_. Because despite what Loki claimed, he really did love his brother. But Loki wasn’t stressed at all– to someone who knew him like Tony did, that much was obvious. And perhaps the others caught that subconsciously, and that was why they were all able to sit and play video games and read while Natasha briefed SHIELD and Steve was _strategizing_ with _Loki_.

And that shouldn’t have even been necessary in the first place, because Tony had volunteered to be the team’s diplomat and deal with Loki himself. But Steve and Clint had been all _no Tony, that’s probably not a good idea_ \- seriously what, did they think Loki was going to tempt Tony into becoming a villain or something? - and only Natasha, who knew how good he was at simply _talking_ , remained on his side. So never mind the fact that Tony could have totally had Loki eating out of his hands by now (though perhaps only through using methods he would never disclose to his teammates), he instead had to sit and wait. While Steve and Loki were locked together in a room. Alone.

“Maybe you’re right.” Bruce’s lips twitched. “I guess we can’t really trust anything Loki says.”

“Certainly not.”

“Mmhm.”

“He’s definitely up to something,” Tony agreed.

“So… basically, you’re ‘taking the high road’ here.”

Tony nodded. “Exactly.”

But Bruce still looked amused, and Tony was more than a little suspicious.

“What is it?” he asked warily.

“Well…” Bruce started, fond exasperation colouring his tone. “You know what they say about moral indignation.”

Tony pouted. “I am _not_ morally undignified!” he whined, and then Bruce started to fucking _giggle_. It took Tony a few embarrassing moments to work out what was so funny before he huffed in annoyance. He was a _mechanical_ genius, okay? Language wasn’t his forte. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, waving a dismissive hand in Bruce’s gleeful face. “Very funny. But I’m serious, I’m not—“

“I think ‘indignant’ is the word you’re looking for,” Bruce said with a cough, not quite calming his amusement. “And you _know_ that’s not what I was getting at.”

At Tony’s blank look, Bruce continued with a sigh.

“I think H. G. Wells coined the phrase, actually. Moral indignation–“

“Is jealousy with a halo,” Tony finished, snapping his fingers and grinning proudly. “I _do_ know that one.” Then he paused. “Wait up, Brucie, _no_. I am _not_ jealous.”

He said it with such surety that had it been anyone else Bruce might have believed it, but he had been closer friends with Tony than he had been with anyone since the accident, and the look on his face made it absolutely clear that he was calling Tony out on his bullshit.

Tony made sure he had his best _I am right and you are wrong_ game face on. “I’m _not_ ,” he insisted.

Bruce raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips as he so obviously tried not to laugh.

And maybe Tony felt a little bad. Because while he was _actually_ self aware enough to realise that yes, okay, so maybe he was a little bit jealous, he couldn’t just go and _admit_ it. Doing so would most definitely not end well, even it was only Bruce he was admitting it to.

So really, despite the puppy dog eyes, Tony only had the two choices.

_Deny or deflect._

But with the sort of crowd he ran with these days, Tony knew that either just wasn’t going to cut it.

“Why do you think I’m jealous, anyway?” he asked regardless in a half-hearted attempt, and Bruce snorted.

“Please, Tony. It’s like Clint was saying– you look at Loki like you wish he wasn’t here. I’ve seen you glare in anger, Tony, and this wasn’t it.”

“Maybe I’m just—“

“This isn’t about Steve.” Bruce paused. “Or rather, this isn’t about Steve’s supposed inability to notice when he’s being manipulated.”

Tony pursed his lips. “I’m not following.”

“Tony, it’s all right, you can admit it.” Bruce’s tone turned soft, _supportive_ , and Tony instinctively shifted backward.

“Admit _what_? I’ve already said I’m not—“

“Worried, jealous, either way. You’re upset that Steve is spending time with Loki, Tony. It’s not because you’re worried about what Loki might being doing to him– you’re worried about what Steve might being doing _with_ Loki.”

Oh. Oh, no.

“You think I’m jealous _of_ _Loki_ ,” Tony said, shocked.

The corner of Bruce’s lips turned up, though his eyes glistened with worry. “Look, Tony, I’m sorry if you think this is an invasion of your privacy, and if I’m going too far you can just say so, and I’ll stop. But it _is_ important to talk, you know, and I want you to know that if you need a friend, I’m here.”

“You think I’m in love with Steve,” Tony groaned.

Bruce’s eyes brightened. “I would have used a weaker word, perhaps, but if that’s how you see it—“

“Bruce, no—“

“It’s all right, Tony,” Bruce repeated. “I’m on your side, here. The whole team is. Well, except Steve, of course. He remains oblivious, don’t worry.”

All of a sudden, various confusing gestures and phrases his friends had used over the past couple days made sense. Except it hadn’t just been the last few days, had it? This had been going on for weeks. _Months_.

Rhodey’s joking - and in hindsight, not very subtle - jab at Tony living the dream of every Cap fanboy (or girl). Natasha’s sly look when a reporter commented on the fact that he’d stopped sleeping around. Thor’s jubilant exclamation of how the joining of teammates deserved a celebration - something Pepper had put an end to with a sharp glare and a few inaudible warnings. Clint’s words only minutes earlier.

“Oh god,” said Tony, putting his head in his hands. “There’s no way this ends well.”

“It’s going to be just fine,” said Bruce, his soothing tone somehow making the whole thing worse. “You’ll see.”

Tony groaned.

\--+--

When Tony walked into the kitchen the next morning for his coffee, it was to find all the Avengers (including Steve, but sans Thor) leaning against the counter in varying poses of sternness. Natasha had the full coffee pot in hand, her expression giving away her intention to hold it hostage.

“What is this?’ Tony asked warily, partially blaming his not-yet caffeinated brain for the sight because surely this wasn’t a—

Wait.

“This isn’t an intervention, is it?”

“No,” said Bruce, and Clint not so smoothly changed his nod to a shake of his head and followed up with a–

“Definitely not.”

Tony crossed his arms and raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“This is merely a chat between friends,” Bruce continued.

“It is,” said Tony, irritated. “This is an intervention.”

Natasha matched Tony’s pose, passing the coffee pot to Steve in order to do so. “What have you been doing that leads you to think we might pose an intervention?” she asked, smirking.

Narrowing his eyes, Tony took a few steps forward and attempted to swipe the pot, but Steve sighed and held it above his head.

“Cut it out, Tony,” he said. “I’ll admit that I have no idea what this is about, either.”

“Oh,” Clint giggled. “You’re a part of this too, Steve.”

“What?” Steve lowered his arms a fraction in shock, and Tony was able to grab the pot in one quick swipe.

“Oh coffee,” Tony cooed, cradling the pot to his chest and breathing in the aromatic fumes. It was an interesting shape for a coffee pot; the handle was thick and metal and wrapped all the way down to the bottom of the glass, and Tony knew his teammates just attributed it to the eccentricities of a billionaire. “How I have missed you.”

There was a snort from the corner of the room, and Tony’s gaze snapped up to land on Loki leaning against a wall, his arms crossed but his eyes darkly amused.

Tony jabbed a finger in the god’s direction. “What the hell is _he_ doing here?”

Steve frowned, and gestured to the half made pancake batter on the counter behind the Avengers. “Breakfast.”

“Oh, _breakfast_ ,” Tony sneered. “Right.”

“And _that’s_ what we’re here to talk about,” said Clint.

“Breakfast?” Steve asked with a frown.

“No!” Clint exclaimed. “Loki!”

“I thought we were talking about Steve,” said Natasha, a smirk lifting the corner of her lips.

“Well since we all seem to be confused,” said Tony, taking a quick swig of the coffee, “I’m just going to head down to do some work until you sort everything out. If you need me, I’ll be in the—“

“Nope,” said Bruce, taking Tony’s shoulder and pushing him down into a chair. “You’re not getting away that easily.”

“Worth a try,” Tony sighed. “But all right, let’s get this over with I suppose.”

“Right.” Clint stood up straight, squared his shoulders, and then gave Tony a wink. “It has come to our attention that you have been acting out of character. The reason for this is obvious.”

Tony sighed. “Clint, you’ve got this wrong. I am _not_ —“

“There’s no point denying it, Tony,” Natasha broke in. “It’s clear as day that you’re in love.”

At that Loki began snickering over in his corner, and Tony sighed once more, louder this time.

“You’re in love, Tony?” asked Steve, his voice bright. “Congratulations!”

Bruce coughed, Clint giggled, and Tony glared.

“It’s not healthy to keep these things in, you know,” said Natasha, and Tony couldn’t help but snap—

“How would you know?” And perhaps that was a little harsh, but Natasha took it in her stride, probably appreciating the fact that he was a _bit_ stressed out.

“Well, regardless, it’s coming out now,” she said.

Clint, still grinning, turned to Steve.

“Clint, _no_ ,” Tony started, but as always, his warning was ignored.

“Steve, there is something you need to be made aware of,” Clint said, his tone far too gleeful for the situation.

Steve frowned. “I already know that Tony is bisexual, Clint,” he said, his voice firm and sure. “Natasha, Sam, and even Tony himself have done a very good job of introducing me to the Internet, and to the differences in society between now and before.”

And Tony was hopeful, because maybe he _had_ read the situation wrong. Maybe they were all planning on merely breaking Tony’s not-so-secret sexuality to Steve, because they hadn’t realised that Tony had already let that particular cat out of the bag in the middle of a non-related shouting match way back in the beginning. But then Clint sighed the sigh of an impatient man with experience of being forced into situations where patience was necessary and said—

“That’s not what I’m on about, Cap. I’m trying to tell you that it’s _you_ Tony’s in love with.”

Eager eyes all around the room watched Steve’s instantly red face with varying degrees of wariness and amused anticipation, but Tony found his own gaze flying to the now disturbingly quiet corner where Loki had been giggling moments before.

There was no one there.

The mystery was solved quickly when, out of nowhere, there was an angry god standing threateningly in the midst of the Avengers, teeth bared and daggers swathed in green. Loki was always imposing in his full battle armour, but the rage that was currently etched across his face was unmatched. He took a few purposeful steps forward until he was eye to eye with Steve, who had instinctively straightened his back and tilted up his chin in defiance.

“I may be fighting on your side at present, Captain,” Loki snarled, raising his magically enveloped weapons menacingly toward Steve’s throat, “but I _do not share_.”

“Let’s all calm down for a second,” said Steve, glancing over to where Bruce was also looking a little green, and Tony lurched forward out of his chair, thrusting the coffee pot to the side.

“Whoa, Loki,” he said, placing a hand on Loki’s shoulder which he doubted the god would actually be able to feel through the layers of leather and metal. “This is all just a misunderstanding.”

“How is this a misunderstanding?” asked Clint, his face a mess of amusement and worry, as if he couldn’t decide whether the show was Christmas come early or if he should clobber Loki over the head with the coffee pot that had made its way into his hands.

“I’ve been trying to tell you all,” said Tony, his voice maybe just a little bit possibly slipping into a growl. “I’m _not_ in love with Steve.”

“Oh thank god,” said Steve, though he turned red once again at his outburst. “Er. Sorry, Tony, it’s not that I don’t think you’re a swell guy, it’s just—“

“It’s all good, Steve,” Tony cut in quickly, taking note of how Steve’s exclamation had eased just a bit of the tension in Loki’s shoulders.

“You are not trying to steal Anthony from me?” Loki asked with narrowed eyes, and Steve shook his head quickly.

“No. Nope. I have no idea what is currently going on, but I promise that I am _not_ in love with Tony.”

“ _Good_ ,” Loki said harshly, and Tony was just about to echo the sentiment when he found himself with an armful of leather and gold, hard edges pressing painfully into his ribs and hips as soft lips attacked his own with desperate possessiveness. Tony pushed forward hungrily, giving as good as he got, nipping and biting as Loki held him hard enough to bruise, the daggers having vanished with the same magic that had summoned them.

Tony couldn’t help but frown as his hands skimmed across cold metal instead of the softness he was searching for, and he pulled away slightly to whisper into Loki’s ear; “I don’t think you’re quite dressed for the occasion, darling.”

Loki’s lips twisted against skin as they migrated down to the curve of Tony’s throat, and then Tony let out a sigh as, in a familiar flash of green, his fingers were able to twist into Loki’s dark hair, and the hard metal and leather armour was replaced with soft fabric.

“You know,” Tony groaned a few blissful moments later, “I am a _little_ put out with you.”

“Mmm?” Loki hummed, and the vibrations felt _awesome_ against Tony’s throat.

“Did you really think I’d _let_ Steve ‘steal’ me from you?”

Loki’s lips paused, and Tony _whined_. “Did you think that I would allow him to steal _me_?” Loki asked, and okay Loki might _think_ he had a point, but Tony put a whole lot more trust into their relationship than that. So he’d been a bit jealous, but that wasn’t _it_.

“I just hate spending time away from you,” he admitted. “With all this going on with Thor you’ve been cooped up with Steve, and I’ve hardly seen you.”

All at once something about their movements became several degrees softer. Lips pressed together not out of need but for the simple act of acknowledgement and affection, fingers no longer grasping but caressing.

“I know,” Loki replied, somehow managing to convey so much emotion in those two simple words that Tony _ached_. Slowly, he tilted his head so that their foreheads rested together, breathing turning slow and their movements halting so they were merely holding each other, just enjoying the closeness that they’d missed.

“Okay,” said Bruce. “I’ll admit that I was _not_ expecting this.”

Tony’s eyes opened and he shifted, not moving away but merely turning in Loki’s grasp so that he faced his team and their varying degrees of _stunned_.

Clint’s voice was high-pitched and hilarious. “Since when did _this_ happen?” he shrieked.

“Long enough for spies and assassins to have long since worked it out,” Tony taunted, deciding that they deserved a little prodding after everything they’d put him through in the last several days. Loki, still pressed into Tony’s side, shook with mirth as he chuckled mercilessly, and Tony hummed in pleasure at the feeling.

Natasha rolled her eyes at them, though Tony could tell from the set of her lips that she was shocked.

“Tony,” said Steve, seeming to have somewhat recovered. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Why do you think?” Tony scoffed. “It’s _Loki_. I’ve had to sit through strategy meetings where you guys debate the best method of trapping him for _good—_ ”

“But you could have helped with our discussions these past days,” Steve continued, nonplussed. “Loki and I have been at an impasse for hours, and you could have helped, we could have retrieved Thor already—“

“I do not act on such whims,” Loki declared, a challenge just waiting to be met.

Tony shifted his hand from where it rested on Loki’s neck, trailing his fingers along Loki’s nape before tugging lightly on his hair. He angled his head so his lips pressed to Loki’s throat, and dragged them across to Loki’s ear.

“Liar,” he whispered, breath and teeth skating across skin, and he smirked as Loki shuddered. Then he pulled away without warning, leaving only his arm around Loki’s now pliant shoulders as he turned to address Steve. “If you recall, it was you who said that wasn’t a good idea.”

Steve inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I recognise now how that might have been a mistake.”

“Whoa, hold up,” said Clint, unknowingly halting the pale hand that was working its way under Tony’s shirt. “You’re all right with this, Cap?”

“It wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t,” Steve replied. “It’s Tony. He’s going to keep doing it anyway.”

Loki grinned so widely it appeared almost maniacal. “Wise, Captain.”

In contrast, Tony’s smile was small but bright. “Thanks, Cap.”

Steve nodded, then turned his gaze to Loki. “So?”

“This changes nothing,” Loki said, and Steve visibly deflated.

“What I want to know,” said Bruce, “is _how_ this even happened in the first place.”

“Guys, come on,” Steve tried, “We have other things to be worrying about.”

“I’m sure Thor can survive a few more minutes,” said Clint, and when Steve did not protest Tony knew his earlier assessment was right. Loki might as well be the god of misdirection but he truly did wear his feelings for Thor on his sleeve, and he was so obviously _not worried_ that every member of the team had been able to pick up on it. Perhaps that was also the reason why Steve had been so stubborn in the negotiating, seeing it as much of an opportunity as Loki had.

“So go on then, Tony,” said Natasha, crossing her arms imposingly. “Answer the question.”

“Not until I get the coffee back,” Tony replied, gesturing to Clint.

“And I’m not giving you this until you give us the details,” Clint shot back, wrapping his arms around the pot and raising his eyebrows in challenge.

“Oh by the _Norns_ ,” Loki grumbled, and then he was gone.

“Look what you did,” Tony whined at the once more shocked Avengers, his arm falling to his side. “You’ve chased him off.”

But no later than when Tony reached the end of his sentence there was another flash of green, and Loki had reappeared. As one, the Avengers inhaled sharply, because leaning against Loki’s shoulder was one very haggard and very inebriated god of thunder.

“Thor?” Clint exclaimed, Tony and Bruce not far behind him.

Steve lurched forward and grabbed Thor’s other side, and helped Loki take him over to the couch. Or, rather, Steve held Thor’s weight and _laid him nicely_ on the couch after Loki unceremoniously shoved his brother in the vague direction of the aforementioned furniture. Bruce rushed toward them then, wearing his Doctor Face™, with the other Avengers trailing behind worriedly. Loki moved in the opposite direction and sidled up beside Tony, an arm wrapping around his waist.

“Why did you do that?’ Tony asked curiously, winding his own arm around his lover. “I thought you were fixing this so the Avengers would owe you one.”

“All I learned in those little _sessions_ is that Captain Rogers is remarkably _good_ ,” Loki replied, wrinkling his nose with a touch of disgust. “He will still reach the conclusion that the Avengers owe me for retrieving my brother.”

“Where even was he?” Tony watched interestedly as Bruce examined Thor, who was muttering something unflattering about Loki in an irritated and slurred voice.

“He was in Alfheim, losing a bet against Sif,” Loki said, his voice turning wickedly gleeful.

“The bet?” Tony asked, half not wanting to know.

A sly grin worked its way onto Loki’s lips. “Let’s just say… that no one should ever judge a lady’s ability to imbibe alcohol purely by her size.”

Tony’s gaze slide across to Natasha, and he shuddered at the memory of the absolute _worst_ hangover he had ever endured. “Amen to that.”

“And now that your teammates are sufficiently distracted,” Loki said, pressing in closer and quite clearly showing his cards, “what do you think about relocating to somewhere a little, ah, _quieter_? Somewhere with less distractions, perhaps?”

Tony grinned. “I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

But before they could move—

“Not so fast, you two.”

Tony groaned and pressed his face into Loki’s shoulder, irritated at yet _another_ interruption as Steve made his way back over to them.

“What _now_?” Loki snapped. “I have returned my brother to you, fulfilling my half of our arrangement as it currently stood. And now, if you don’t mind, I would like some _peace_. Your rambling and lack of judgement regarding when you should simply _agree_ has kept me from our bed for far longer than I would like. So if you will excuse us, Anthony and I will be leaving now, and there is no need to expect to see us again until _at least_ tomorrow.”

“Well.” Steve swallowed hard. “I suppose Tony wasn’t the only one suffering these past few days.”

With a growl and final green flash, Loki and Tony were gone, leaving only the shell shocked Avengers in their wake.

“I was winnin’ ya know,” slurred Thor, breaking the silence and tugging lightly on Clint’s pinky. “Woulda, if Loki had just _lef’ me alone_.”

“Sure, big guy,” said Clint, patting him on the head absentmindedly. “To be totally honest, you ‘winning’ a competition after drinking for three days straight is probably the most _normal_ thing that’s happened so far today. Don’t think there’s anything else that could faze me, not after—”

Clint yelped as the coffee pot resting in the crook of his arm _twitched_. He dropped it in surprise and the thing’s handle unfurled into legs, catching itself deftly on the floor. And as the pot began making its own way toward the elevator, it really was a testament both to Clint’s words and their acclimatisation to Tony’s quirks that not a single Avenger so much as blinked.


End file.
